Mostly Invisible Friends
by MJ McCoy
Summary: Kurt had an imaginary friend, like most young children. But he insisted that she was different. She was real. Of course, his parents didn't believe him, but perhaps there was more weight to his proclamations than they thought.
1. Prologue

When Kurt was young he had an imaginary friend, like most children do. His imaginary friend was different, though: he insisted that she was a spirit.

"She's here to help me and when I'm grown up and don't need her anymore she'll get her wings!" he would say cheerfully, and his parents would smile indulgently at him.

But when he announced that his friend's name was Anna, both Ellie and Burt Hummel winced. The name brought with it too many painful memories.

When he was young, Anna could be written off to Kurt's overactive imagination. But Kurt grew older, and although he stopped mentioning Anna around the time all the other kids abandoned their imaginary friends, Burt would still pass by Kurt's door and hear him talking to her.

Anna became more prevalent when Ellie died four months before Kurt's eighth birthday, give or take a few days. Burt didn't say anything; he figured it was Kurt's way of dealing with the tragedy and he kind of wished he had an Anna of his own.

Sometimes Burt would find pictures when he was cleaning Kurt's room. They were often of Kurt and Anna together, with Burt occasionally making a guest appearance, but there were a lot of just Anna. Burt saw the first drawing and knew immediately who she was: Kurt was quite the talented artist for his age.

The drawings were just one of many hints that pointed to Anna perhaps being more than just imaginary.

After Kurt entered middle school there were no further mentions of Anna, but Burt knew she was still there. Whenever Kurt had a particularly rough day he would go to his room and Burt would hear him talking quietly to a girl only he could see.

When Kurt entered high school, though, he no longer talked about his day to Burt or even to Anna, which deprived Burt of his nightly eavesdropping. Burt knew how rough high school was for a kid like Kurt, both from his own memories and from what he'd overheard about Kurt's struggles in middle school. Burt had always known Kurt was different; he was just waiting for confirmation.

He got it one night after Kurt's first— and last— football game. The kid had turned to him and said something about not wanting to hide who he was or whatever and then he just said it. 'I'm gay.' And the fear in his eyes was enough to make Burt wonder exactly what Kurt thought he would do. Burt loved his son, though, and would never do anything to hurt him. So he replied with 'I know', and when he had pulled his son into a tight embrace, he looked over Kurt's shoulder and could swear he saw a teenage girl watching them and smiling. But then he blinked, and she was gone.

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><p><strong>TBC.<strong>

**I have a shiny new Tumblr! I will mostly be using it for writing (both original works and fanfiction) and as an outlet for my extra energy, so consider yourself warned. The link is on my profile.**


	2. Chapter 1

Anna could do whatever she wanted, but she usually stuck with Kurt. When he got older, she stayed at home more, giving him his independence. But sometimes he was glad she decided to accompany him. It made him feel less alone.

One such day had been particularly rough, but a one-word text from a new friend and Anna's presence beside him spurred him into action.

He stormed into the locker room, fully intending to go off on Karofsky. As far as he could recall, he had. He spat out a few well-chosen insults and was starting to feel much better about all this when suddenly there was a pair of lips on his and he didn't want this _at all_. What made it worse was that Karofsky, for some reason, leaned in again, but Kurt regained the ability to move and pushed him away.

Kurt sank to the floor after Karofsky left and Anna appeared beside him.

"What's it like?" he asked softly.

"What's what like?" she replied, confused.

"Death," he said simply.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I was so young when I died; I've been dead for as long as I can remember. I never knew life."

"So… do you think it's… easy? Peaceful?"

She laughed bitterly. "What, dying or death?"

"Both, I suppose," he replied.

"I don't recall any singularly traumatic event so I guess dying itself is as I've heard, like falling asleep. As for death, this is all I've ever known; I have nothing to compare it with. I think… it's pretty peaceful. You don't have to be cautious or afraid of anything, really; you can't get hurt and you certainly can't die again." She paused. "But, you know, it's not a life I'd choose for a young person like you or me."

"Is there— anything else? Like, _beyond?_" he asked softly. He didn't quite believe in heaven, or even a 'Higher Being' for that matter, but the idea of heaven was certainly appealing.

"I'm not sure. I'm— I'm kind of afraid of it myself," she confessed. "I think perhaps I stayed behind because I was so young and not prepared to die, and became a guardian angel of sorts for you. I— I've heard of people 'passing on', even saw one myself, but I've never had the opportunity."

"My mother?" Kurt asked hesitantly. "Did she— pass on?"

"Yes," Anna replied. "I didn't sleep that night— I often sleep when you do although I have no biological need for it— and I _saw_ it. Your father had taken you home, and I was the only one there. She opened her eyes, right at the end, and she looked _right at me_. She said my name, and then she looked past me to something I couldn't see. She smiled and I saw her leave her body and then she vanished, just like that. And she looked so _happy_. I wanted so much to go where she was going, but I couldn't."

Kurt wrapped an arm around Anna's shoulders and the two of them sat silently, wrapped up in their memories.

Not long after that particularly unpleasant incident, Burt got married to a woman named Carole, whom he'd been dating for a few months. Anna noted with glee the obvious improvement in Carole's son Finn's attitude. He sang to Kurt, a far cry from flinging slurs in the basement.

While things were improving in the family department, elsewhere they didn't fare as well. A threat was made on Kurt's life, and while Anna could tell Karofsky didn't quite mean it, he just wanted to scare Kurt, it came to pass that Kurt was going to transfer schools.

"He didn't intend to carry it out," Anna told him later.

"I know," Kurt said. "I would've smelt it."

"And I would've seen it," Anna said, shuddering. She'd always been able to see the reaper that appeared when people were marked for death, perhaps because she was dead herself. Kurt had never seen the reaper, but he had always been able to smell it. It had a cold, empty smell, the sort to send shivers down your spine and make every single hair stand on end. Kurt had been able to smell it hanging around his mother for a week before her accident, though he had convinced himself it came from someone else around her and continued to float contentedly down Denial River.

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><p><strong>Thanks for the feedback, guys, I really appreciate it!<br>**

**TBC.**


	3. Chapter 2

Now Kurt enjoyed Dalton, that remains an uncontested fact, but he did miss his friends at McKinley. However, that feeling of loss was very nearly balanced out by Blaine, new best friend and potential love interest. Kurt had boarded at Dalton in the beginning, and the two of them often walked footpaths in the forest behind Dalton, but only the official, post-marked ones. Kurt would rather not get lost in the extensive woods, and Blaine really didn't want to either.

On one such walk Kurt mindlessly commented on the familiar scent hanging around a tiny rabbit as it hopped innocently across their path.

"Poor thing," Kurt said, staring at it.

"Why?" Blaine asked.

"It's going to die," Kurt replied, pity in his voice.

As if on cue, a hawk swooped down and snatched up the rabbit, carrying it off for a meal.

Blaine stared at Kurt, confused.

"How did you know that?" he asked incredulously.

Kurt's eyes widened as he realized his mistake. "Um… lucky guess, I suppose."

Blaine's subconscious was far more suspicious than Blaine himself was willing to admit, though. He often found himself keeping track of the strange things Kurt noticed: that a seemingly friendly dog was dying ("Stay away from it. We can't help it now; it's probably rabid"), that Jeff's grandmother was going to die (she once came to pick Jeff up for the weekend and Kurt bought Jeff a black suit that very day, which he wore two weeks later to her funeral). The last straw, however, was Pavarotti.

"What are you doing?" Blaine asked one Thursday afternoon. Kurt seemed to be sticking tiny gems onto a small black box.

"Decorating Pavarotti's casket," Kurt replied absently.

"Pavarotti died?" Blaine asked, shocked.

"Not yet," was Kurt's answer.

"Kurt," Blaine began, "I'm sure he's just molting again—"

"No, he isn't," Kurt said definitively.

Blaine sighed, frustrated. He was sick of Kurt's abnormal obsession with death, and he honestly wanted to help his friend.

"Kurt, this is getting out of hand!" Blaine said, setting his hands on the table to punctuate his declaration.

"What is?" Kurt asked calmly, continuing to decorate the miniature casket before him.

Blaine plucked the small box from Kurt's hands and set it on another table. Kurt looked up at Blaine in annoyance.

"Give Pavarotti's casket back," he demanded.

"This preoccupation with death has got to end, Kurt," Blaine said. "I'm worried about you!"

"Worried about _me?_" Kurt scoffed, crossing his arms. "I'm fine!"

"No, you're _not!_" Blaine cried. "This is not _normal_, Kurt, this thing you've got about death!"

"What, a healthy respect?"

"No, an unhealthy fascination! Honestly, Kurt, I'm starting to think you're suicidal!"

Kurt narrowed his eyes. "Oh, yeah, Blaine, I've just escaped a hellhole of a school and a bully out for my blood only to go off myself. _If_ you'll excuse me."

He stood and sent one last cold gaze Blaine's way before stalking away, snatching up his casket-in-the-making as he went.

Blaine collapsed at the table, dropped his head in his hands, and groaned. That had definitely _not_ been the proper way to go about confronting a possibly-suicidal friend.

In the end he decided to give Kurt time to cool off; besides, this gave him time to work on his apology speech.

However, when Kurt came to school the next morning looking thoroughly displeased with Blaine, all thoughts of a carefully prepared speech flew out the window.

"Kurt, Kurt, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, I'm just worried, I'm sorry!" Blaine said, all in a rush.

Kurt's expression lightened a bit. "It's fine, Blaine. Just leave it."

Blaine quieted immediately, still staring at Kurt.

Kurt sighed. "I suppose you require an explanation for my odd behavior?"

Blaine hesitated slightly before nodding.

"You probably won't believe me," Kurt muttered. "I barely believe it myself. But as it is, I have— somewhat of an imaginary friend. She's always been there, and I just assumed she was merely a product of my rather vivid imagination. But as I grew older it became clear that she was more than that. She was—" he gulped nervously— "a ghost."

Blaine stared at him, mouth hanging open. "Are you— are you _serious?_"

Kurt nodded. "She's just been a part of my life for so long, I've become accustomed to her, like you get used to your right arm." He paused, contemplating what to next tell Blaine. "She's the reason I can tell when someone— or something— is going to die."

"Does she— _tell_ you?" Blaine asked.

"Not quite," Kurt said, quickly explaining the concept of the reaper. "For example, when my dad had his heart attack, I knew he wasn't going to die. That didn't stop me from being terrified that at any moment I'd smell that awful smell all over him, though."

Shortly afterward, Blaine excused himself to go to class and spent the rest of the day mulling over what Kurt had told him. Eventually he came to a conclusion: he needed to alert someone to Kurt's apparent ability to see dead people.

Blaine knew from a previous conversation that Kurt was going for some 'retail therapy' with some of his friends after school, and so took advantage of this time.

"Uh… hey, Blaine," Burt said warily when he spotted Blaine leaning against the wall of the garage. He was probably remembering the last time Blaine showed up to talk to him without Kurt.

Blaine hesitated, then blurted out the entire story, from Kurt's odd behavior to his morbid predictions to his strange story.

Burt absorbed the information quietly, looking shaken.

"All right," he said finally. "You said he talks to a dead girl named Anna?"

Blaine nodded, biting his lip.

Burt sighed. "I'll talk to him. Thanks for telling me, Blaine."

Blaine nodded again and bid him farewell. As he left, he could only hope he'd done the right thing.

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><p><strong>TBC.<strong>

**There will be a bit of a delay between this penultimate chapter and the next, as I'll be on vacation and I doubt I'll have access to the Internet. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!**


	4. Chapter 3

Blaine saw Kurt again the following Monday. He seemed quiet, thoughtful, subdued; Blaine hoped this drastic change in character wasn't his fault.

Kurt caught up with him after school ended and led him to the parking lot.

Blaine was confused when they pulled up outside Lima Memorial Cemetery. He followed Kurt as the latter wove expertly through the rows of headstones before coming to a stop in front of a white marble monument. Blaine peered at the delicate lettering.

_Hannah Elizabeth Hummel_

_Beloved wife, mother, and friend._

_September 30, 1970 – March 16, 2002_

"My mother," Kurt said quietly. Blaine gently laid his hand over Kurt's where it rested on his mother's headstone.

Kurt knelt down, staring at a patch of grass beside his mother's grave, a seemingly empty plot. He reached out a gentle hand and began to brush away the grass and weeds that grew rampant.

Slowly a tiny grave marker was revealed, and Kurt gasped in shock.

_Anna Michaela Hummel_

_Daughter and sister taken too soon._

_July 21, 1994 – July 28, 1994_

"It's her," he said softly. "Anna. She was my twin."

He sniffled, and Blain had to blink rapidly himself as they looked at a reminder of a life snuffed out before it could begin.

"I never realized she was my sister," Kurt said, tears streaming down his face. Blaine reached over and pulled him into a comforting hug.

"My dad told me, but I didn't believe him. He told me to check next to my mom's grave. And there... there she is."

Blaine rubbed Kurt's back in what he hoped was a soothing motion.

"She was only a week old, Blaine. A week. And her— her _spirit_ grew up with me, so she could see the world with me. She can't move on because she wants to live, and who am I to deny her a taste of the life she couldn't have?" Kurt continued.

"I'm sure she's happy to have this opportunity," Blaine said, trying hard to keep his voice from breaking. "And I bet she's grateful to you for giving her as much as you have— love and friendship."

Kurt pulled away to look Blaine in the eyes. "You really think so?"

"I do," Blaine replied. "Is she... is Anna here now?"

Kurt looked around, then pointed to a spot just beyond his mother's grave.

"There she is," he whispered, his emotions seeping into his voice.

Blaine moved to stand near the indicated spot, imagining he could see a girl there.

"Anna," he began, "I can't see you or hear you like Kurt can, but I want you to know that we want you to be happy. Maybe someday you'll be able to move on, but for now we just want you to be happy."

As he spoke, he could swear he saw a flash of light brown— the same color as Kurt's hair— and felt ever so slightly the sensation of arms around him, almost like the wind was hugging him.

He turned to Kurt, whose eyes brimmed with tears.

"She says thank you," Kurt said softly.

Blaine held out his hand, and Kurt took it. The two of them walked out of the cemetery, backlit by the setting sun.

Neither of them saw the girl who appeared on the hill behind them and smiled, before being swept away by the wind.

_"Goodbye."_

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><p><strong>I do not own Glee.<strong>

**This was also a fill for a prompt on the angst meme.**

**I thank you for all your feedback and your time.**

**-MJ**


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